


A War Is Calling, the Tides Are Turned

by greenstuff



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pining, Spoilers, these boys will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenstuff/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: Coda of sorts for 1x08 Barely Breathing.  Spoilers for 1x08 and everything before that.





	A War Is Calling, the Tides Are Turned

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I was not going to write these two. I was going to be good and focus on my WIPs and just sit back and ache for this pairing while devouring everyone else’s beautiful fic. And then 1x08 happened and this just poured out. It’s completely unedited and possibly terrible, but I needed to write it and I hope you enjoy reading it. 
> 
> Title is from Empries by Ruelle because I can’t stop listening to that album after they used Genesis tonight.

Alex hasn’t been sleeping. It’s not because of the nightmares that inevitably bounce him back to consciousness covered in cold sweat with his heart beating so loudly in his ears his adrenal system thinks it’s gunfire.

No, these days Alex is too busy for sleep.

Alex can’t really remember a time before he was afraid of his father. But he will never forget the day his dreams of escaping Jesse Manes transformed to dreams of destroying everything his father loved. The day that was the best and then worst day of his life. Before war took over every nightmare, Alex used to dream of it over and over and over until he almost couldn’t bear to close his eyes. Happiness without measure and a blissful few minutes of the kind of intimacy his 17 year old brain had already convinced him was out of reach, and then fear and pain and heartbreak. He always woke screaming to the sickening crunch of the bones in Michael’s hand giving way to Jesse’s hammer.

The military taught him to stifle his screams and gave him new nightmares until he could finally bury that day under all of the death, fear, and pain.  They taught him how to hide how he felt and who he loved. They taught him how to finally become a ‘real’ Manes man – at least on the surface.

The military taught him other skills as well. How to hack an enemy intelligence network. How to seek out weaknesses until he had everything he needed to destroy an enemy without firing a single bullet.

Alex almost hadn’t returned to Roswell. He hates that it was one of the hardest choices he’s made in ten years. There were so many reasons to stay away, and he could think of nothing positive to bring him home. The one reason he might have stayed forever for was surely long gone. Michael Guerin was too good for Roswell New Mexico. Too good for three quarters of a damaged Manes man. It was revenge in the end that drove him home. He would come home and play the war hero and then, when he knew enough, he would take down his asshole father once and for all.

And then he actually came home and almost ruined all of his carefully laid plans because of a pair of beautiful eyes that tear his soul. He might have let it all go, learned to live with the fear and the pain and all his imperfections, because when Michael looked at him none of that fucking mattered anymore. But, of course, that was a fantasy. Alex could no more be with Michael than he could forget the IED that took his leg and half his platoon or the sickening crunch a hand makes when it shatters.

_Hey! Maybe you need to call it a night. Use the evening to educate yourself on how to properly represent your country… seems to me the only one you’re embarrassing is yourself, son._

His father’s words had broken the almost content bubble Alex had managed to wrap himself in since the day of the reunion. They weren’t a threat, but every cell in Alex’s body screamed that he needed to push Michael as far away as possible. That if he didn’t, it wouldn’t just be Michael’s hand and his music lost to Jesse Manes’ homophobic rage.

It was depressingly easy, driving Michael away. Staying away himself proved harder. So he threw himself into his mission.

By day he was a loyal, purple heart decorated airman with three tours under his belt, just happy to do his part to keep his country safe. In the evenings he played best friend to Maria and friendly neighbourhood townie-war-hero. At night, when he should have been sleeping, he dove into the dark web, digging up everything he could find on Jesse Manes, then Project Shepherd, then actual fucking _Aliens_ that may or may not exist and if they did exist were being hidden by the US government. When his eyes felt like they were bleeding and his head ached, he would collapse into bed for an hour or two and then repeat the cycle all over again. Until suddenly: he is done.  

Alex sits back in his chair, rubs at his aching neck, and smiles.

\--

The effervescent triumph doesn’t leave his system as Alex confronts his father for the first time in his life and wins. He feels practically giddy with it as he taps away, unravelling his father’s frankly pathetic security. He turns his back on his father and starts to sift through the files. His brain is too frazzled to really understand all of the files, but he’s not looking to take on the ‘family legacy.’ All he needs is proof that Project Shepherd is still active and it’s here in droves.

And then all of a sudden Michael’s face is staring back at him from the screen and Alex’s whole body goes cold and then hot – fear and fury chasing over his skin. He has killed before, and for a moment he wonders if he could kill his own father.

He has a plan.  He just needs to stick to the plan. If he sticks to his plan Jesse will be gone for good and Michael will be safe. He forces his lungs to breathe normally, but he can’t stop himself from asking.

Of course, Jesse lies. Alex doesn’t know why he expected anything different. The idea that Michael – _Michael Guerin, the boy who lost the thing he loved most in the world protecting Alex from Jesse_ \- has been using Alex to infiltrate the human race since they were 17 is laughable. Alex doesn’t feel like laughing. He feels like screaming, and smashing. But the Military taught him everything he needs, so he swallows it down and presses on.

Jesse leaves without a fight. Alex expects a fight may come, but for now Jesse is leaving Roswell and Alex is free.

He loses track of time in the bunker. Eventually, after resetting the security protocols so they’re no longer something any cadet could crack over breakfast, Alex emerges into the New Mexico night air. He uses his hand to seal the door to the bunker and chuckles as he covers the scanner with a piece of brush. If he doesn’t decide to destroy this place completely, the external security really needs an upgrade.

Alex doesn’t know where he is going until he pulls his vehicle into the junk yard. He kills the engine and lights, but can’t bring himself to get out. He shouldn’t be here, but there’s nowhere else he can imagine being. Nothing signifies freedom for him the way this stupid airstream has come to in the last few weeks.

Things between him and Guerin are not good. Alex hasn’t seen him since the drive in, but he can still see the hope ( _Want to go for a ride?_ ) flashing to hurt before Michael drove away. It’s that hurt that keeps him locked here like a stalker, staring at Michael’s door and knowing he’s already used all his courage today and won’t be able to bring himself to knock.

It’s only when Michael’s truck pulls up next to his sometime after the moon passes its zenith that Alex realizes Michael wasn’t even home.

Their eyes meet through the windows and Alex’s heart aches. Michael looks _terrible_.

Alex doesn’t move fast these days, but Michael’s haunted, red rimmed eyes pull him and Alex is out of his vehicle and rounding the hood before he realizes he decided to move at all.

Michael swallows visibly, eyes never leaving Alex’s face as he slowly steps from his trick. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?”

Michael’s gaze slides away, focusing on something past Alex’s head and he feels the loss like a punch.

“I’m sorry.” He says, wishing he had something more profound to offer Michael but, as always, coming up short.

“Isabel almost died today.” Michael’s voice is scraped raw and tear pool in his eyes.

“Wha—how? Is she okay?” Alex stumbles a half step forward, one arm reaching out instinctually before falling to his side.

Michael takes a shuddering breath and meets Alex’s eyes again. “Why are you here, Alex?”

“He’s gone. My father, I… He’s leaving Roswell in the morning and he’s never coming back. And I –” Alex wants to look away, wants to hide from the pain in Michael’s face, wants to bury his face in that perfect slot between Michael’s shoulder and his neck and never come up for air. “We can talk about that later. Is Isabel going to be okay?”

The smile Michael forces on his face is cold and foreign and completely at odds with the screaming pain in his eyes. “She’s going to be fine. I just came back here to grab some things and then I’m headed out again. I’m happy for you, though. About your father.”

“Michael…” This time when Alex’s hand reaches out without his permission, he doesn’t stop it from brushing a tear away from Michael’s cheek.

Michael shakes his head and leans just far enough back to break contact. “I can’t. Please, Alex.”

Alex doesn’t notice his own tears have begun to fall until one drips off his chin. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out around the lump in his throat. “I’ll go. I shouldn’t have come. I hope Isabel is okay.”

He turns and takes a slow, unsteady step away. There’s an ache in his chest so intense he can’t quite breathe around it and the tears are falling free and fast now. He somehow never imagined this – his plan, Michael’s _safety,_ means he has to stay in Roswell and make sure his father never returns. But he never imagined he would have to stay in Roswell without Michael.

Living without Michael was always supposed to be stasis – just holding on until the world bent to his will. He wasn’t supposed to ever have to learn to live without Michael as a permanent state of being.

He almost stumbles when Michael’s hand grips him by his shoulder, but then he’s being spun and pressed against the truck and Michael is leaning into him, hot lips desperate against his. Alex grips Michael’s coat, using it as leverage to pull him even closer until they’re pressed against each over from head to toe.

Too soon Michael is pulling again, pressing his forehead against Alex’s. His hands come up to frame Alex’s face and then he steps back, letting the cold night air fill the space between them. “I have to go. Isabel…”

“Yeah,” Alex says, releasing Michael’s coat, letting him step back for real.

Michael’s eyes rake over Alex’s face and they’re seventeen again. “I’ll call you?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He says softly. “As long as it takes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edited to fix some typos. Thanks for the catch Herakai!


End file.
